


Revolutionary

by Scrawlers



Series: Paradigm Shift [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Realities, M/M, Written for Keitor Week Day 8: What If, takes place in season four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 10:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12651327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrawlers/pseuds/Scrawlers
Summary: Everything seems to be proceeding as usual, until a visit from five Paladins flips Keith’s reality on its axis.





	Revolutionary

**Author's Note:**

> The gorgeous cover art you see below was drawn by the amazingly talented [brooklynhype](http://brooklynhype.tumblr.com/post/172786231402/some-art-for-my-friend-scrawlers-fic) on tumblr! ♥

The universe— _their_ universe, anyway,  _their_ reality—was dotted with a number of rifts in space-time. There were none greater or more dangerous than the one that still resided within the ruins of the planet Daibazaal, but other rifts and wormholes did exist throughout the universe, varying in size and energy. Some were too tiny for anything to fly through. Others were so large that nothing of significance could be by them for long without being destroyed. All of them were too dangerous for normal travel; whether it was the sheer force of quintessence emitted from each rift, or the pressure of traveling between realities, normal ships were destroyed within ticks of making the attempt. Nothing short of Voltron itself or the ship they had crafted from an inter-reality comet they had secured had a chance of making it through a rift, and even then, the journey was tricky.

The rift the Castle of Lions hovered before now was about the same size as the comet rift, Keith thought. Not exactly, but the diameter was close enough in size to be comparable. He pulled his eyes from the viewport to look back at the readings on his workstation’s console. Even now he didn’t have enough technical knowledge to understand exactly what it was he was seeing, but he thought the quintessence readings looked similar to how they had when they went to the other rift to secure the comet. From what he could tell, this one was exactly like that one. Voltron—or the comet ship, at least—should be able to make it through. He leaned forward a little so that he could twist around in his seat and say so (and ask if they should take Voltron to go get a closer look), but he was interrupted before he could.

“Hey,” Ezor said, and while Keith still did turn to look behind him, he turned his eyes to her workstation instead of central command as he had originally planned. But instead of looking back at him, her eyes were trained on the viewport. “What’s that?”

Keith looked back to the viewport—and more specifically, to the rift. Whereas it had existed idly in space before, glowing blindingly golden but not causing any disruption otherwise, now a distortion had appeared in the center of it. Keith stared, unable to look away, as the distortion turned to a series of ripples; and from the center of those ripples, pushing its way through as if it was merely pushing through clothes stored in a closet, was—

“Is that . . .  _Voltron_?” Zethrid asked.

“How can  _that_  be Voltron?  _We_ have Voltron,” Ezor said.

Keith wanted to agree with her, but there was no denying what was right in front of his—right in front of  _all_ of their eyes. Voltron, comprised of all five Lions, was floating through space right in front of the rift. As Keith watched, each of the Lions separated from one another, shooting apart before regrouping in a loose semi-circle staring directly at them instead.

“It appears that’s a Voltron from another reality,” Lotor said. Keith tore his eyes away from the Lions at last and looked back around to see that Lotor had braced his elbow against one of the central control units, his cheek leaning against his curled fingers, a little smirk on his lips. “Fascinating. I didn’t believe it possible.”

“How  _is_ it possible?” Acxa asked. “I thought Voltron’s sentience came from the void between realities. Even if another reality mined the same ore, how did they manage to recreate Voltron’s sentience?”

“That’s a question I unfortunately don’t have an answer to, though I’d love to find out,” Lotor said.

“Do you think they’re us?” Ezor asked. “Like, another reality’s version of us? That’d be kinda cool.”

“Maybe,” Zethrid said, “but only if my alternate reality self wasn’t disappointing.”

“How could she be disappointing?”

“Well, could she beat me in a fight? If she’s a total wimp, I have no need to know her.”

“But if she beats you, doesn’t that make  _you_ the disappointing wimp in  _her_ eyes?”

“All right, that’s enough,” Acxa said, just loudly enough to cut across Zethrid’s reply and draw their attention back to the matter at hand. Not for the first time, and he was sure not for the last, Keith was grateful for Acxa. “Lotor, what do you think we should—”

“Keith,” Lotor said suddenly, and Keith raised his eyebrows to show that he heard. “Close visual communications between the Castle and the Lions, and mute our end of the audio teleconferencing.”

“On it,” Keith said. He turned back in his seat and pulled up the communications channels on his console. He couldn’t help but feel another flash of gratitude as he did so; ever since Narti had figured out how to rewire the bridge’s front console so that all of its controls could be accessed from the Black Paladin’s workstation, all of their lives had gotten so much easier. He disconnected the visuals and muted their end of the audio was requested, and no sooner had he finished doing so did a voice break over the audio communication channel.

_“Coran? Coran, are you there? Can you hear us?”_

Keith blinked, and glanced at his console before he looked back up at the viewport. His console said that the transmission was coming from the Blue Lion, but while the voice was female, it was a far cry from Ezor’s bright chirp.

As if she had borrowed Narti’s abilities to read his thoughts, Ezor proved his point by saying, “Who’s Coran? And who is whoever’s asking for him? And what’s she doing in  _my_ kitty?”

“I would assume she’s that reality’s Blue Paladin,” Acxa said.

“Then what happened to me?” Ezor demanded, indignant.

_“Coran? Hello? Is anyone there?”_ The same female voice broke through the communications channels again, and Keith frowned. She sounded . . . a little familiar, somehow, as though he had heard her voice somewhere before, a while back ago. It might have been her accent—it was similar to Lotor’s—but he didn’t think that was it. There was something else about her voice. Something—

“Patience, Ezor. I expect we’ll have our answers soon enough. I don’t believe our alternate reality friends will want to wait outside for long,” Lotor said.

“You think they’ll try to come inside?” Keith asked.

“Undoubtedly. Differing realities aside, from their perception, this is  _their_ Castle. I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Zethrid said, and Keith didn’t have to look back to know that she was grinning as she said, “for  _them_.”

Kova yowled from her place on Narti’s shoulder, her voice rippling with protest. Keith glanced over to see that she had arched her back and was flexing her claws, and that her tail was lashing in the direction of the Green Lion’s hangar.

“Oh, yeah,” Ezor said, blinking. “That’s a good point.  _Our_ kitties are still in the hangars, so—”

“There are other entrances, provided they’re comfortable with leaving their Lions outside,” Lotor said. “Just give them—ah, here we go. Right on time.”

Keith turned back to the viewport in time to see all five Lions bolt toward the Castle, light streaks like comet tails trailing behind them.

“Narti, notify Auxiliary Team One to be on standby in the portside wing. They’re to remain there, unseen, until our guests have entered this room. Then and only then do I want them in the corridor outside,” Lotor said. Kova meowed to show that Narti had heard, even as Narti busied herself with her console. “In the meantime, I am going to ensure their route.”

The central command console flickered to life before Lotor, and his fingers danced along the light screen as he locked down doors and corridors within the Castle. The elevators from the hangars to the bridge were the first to be locked down, just in case the alternate reality team tried to use them, making them use the primary rear door into the bridge instead. Next, Lotor worked at blocking off corridors that would lead them to the auxiliary teams’ wings (and especially the portside wing, where Auxiliary Team One was going to be on standby), corralling and shepherding them through a specific route to the bridge. Though the sensors indicated that the alternate team did still enter through the hangars (Lion-less though they now were), they were forced down a very linear path that would bring them straight to the bridge, and nowhere else.

“That should do it,” Lotor said, and he smiled like a satisfied cat at his handiwork. “Now all we have to do is wait.”

They didn’t have to wait for long.

Though the Castle’s sensors indicated that the alternate team tried to stray off their set path multiple times over, they realized quickly enough that there was only one path they would be permitted to take. Before they arrived, Keith rose from his seat to stand to Lotor’s right, just as Acxa stood to stand on Lotor’s left. Zethrid and Ezor rose as well; since their workstations were nearest the door, although they still stayed near their consoles, they still stood like sentries, appearing casual to all who didn’t know them. Only Narti remained seated, perched on her chair just as Kova was perched on her shoulder, but she was turned toward the door and Keith could tell by the twitch of her tail that she was attentive.

They only had to wait roughly fifteen dobashes before the rear entrance’s door finally slid open to admit five alternate reality Paladins. The first thing Keith noticed was that they had swapped one color for another; rather than any one of the Paladins wearing red armor, one—a girl about his age with dark skin and white hair—wore pink instead. But he had no time to comment on this before all five of them dropped to combat-ready stances, Bayards in hand. As one, Keith and Acxa took steps forward to place themselves a little in front of Lotor, who (Keith was unsurprised to see) looked far more amused than concerned.

“Is that really necessary?” Lotor asked. “We haven’t even introduced ourselves yet.”

“Who are you, and what are you doing in our Castle?” the one in the pink armor demanded. Keith blinked. She was the one who had spoken to them from the Blue Lion. But if she was the Blue Paladin, why wasn’t  _she_ wearing the blue armor instead of the lanky guy to her right?

“I suppose alternate realities  _can_ be confusing,” Lotor said, “but in case the presence of  _our_ Lions in their hangars, as well as the armor we’re wearing, didn’t make it apparent enough, let me clear your confusion: This is  _our_ Castle.”

The—Pink Paladin, Keith supposed, opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, their Yellow Paladin said, “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Haven’t we seen these guys before? At least, some of these guys.”

“They’re Lotor’s generals, aren’t they?” their Green Paladin asked. His—no, her? Her—eyes swept over them, looking at them each in turn. But when her eyes fell on Keith she went rigid, and her eyes widened.

Keith’s stomach twisted unpleasantly. He couldn’t say why, but he didn’t like the look she was giving him.

But her teammates seemed to realize whatever it was she did in the same beat. Their Blue Paladin’s eyes widened just as their Green Paladin’s had, and before anyone could say anything he yelped, “ _Keith_?! What are  _you_ doing here?!” He turned to their Black Paladin, then, and said, “I thought you said the Blade of Marmora didn’t have any ships that could make it through the rift!”

“I . . . didn’t think they did,” their Black Paladin said, frowning as he, too, turned his eyes to Keith. “What are you—how did you get here?”

“I live here,” Keith said, and he balled his fingers into fists in the crooks of his folded arms. “How do you know my name?”

“What do you mean, how do we know your name?” the Blue Paladin demanded. “We’ve only been putting up with you for months now. Get over here, you’re on the wrong side.”

“The wrong side?” Acxa said.

“Keith, are these friends of yours?” Lotor asked, and though he raised his eyebrows as if he was genuinely curious about the answer, there was something about his smile that told Keith that none of his amusement had faded.

Unfortunately, Keith didn’t share in his humor.

“No,” he said flatly. “I’ve never seen any of these people before in my life.”

It was if an errant electric shock rippled through the alternate reality Paladins. Most of them took a step back, and even those who didn’t faltered.

“What?” the Pink Paladin said.

“Uh, guys,” their Yellow Paladin said quietly. His eyes kept darting around the room, looking at each of them in turn, “I’m getting a  _really_ bad feeling about this.”

“I want to know what’s going on. Keith, what do you mean when you say you’ve never met us?” their Black Paladin asked. A strange look crossed over his face, then—something caught between unhappiness and surprise—and before Keith could answer his first question, he added, “And why are you wearing that armor?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ezor said, once more before Keith could get a word out. Keith huffed. It would be nice if they would give him a chance to respond. He could talk for himself. “It’s because he’s the Black Kitty’s pilot. Well, sometimes, anyway. He shares it.”

Zethrid smirked. “It gets real cozy in that cockpit sometimes.”

Keith gave her a flat look. “Really? You’re going to do this  _now_?”

She only continued to grin at him.

As the other team’s Green Paladin said, “Black  _Kitty_?” in a tone caught halfway between disgust and disbelief, their Black Paladin asked, “Who does he share it with?”

“Isn’t  _that_  obvious?” Lotor asked, and he gestured to his own armor as he said, “Me.”

“You?” the Pink Paladin repeated, her eyes widening.

“Well, the colors on your armor are inverted, so maybe it’s not so obvious,” Ezor said, turning in Lotor’s direction. “The lights are the same, but the black and white parts are all switched.”

“It’s still close enough,” Zethrid said.

The Pink Paladin stepped forward, her chin raised a little, even as her hands curled into fists. “But aren’t you Prince Lotor?”

“But that doesn’t mean anything,” Ezor said, still clearly speaking to Zethrid. “I mean, look at these guys. The one who apparently flies my kitty is wearing pink armor, so who knows what the one wearing the blue armor has been flying.”

“I am,” Lotor said to the Pink Paladin, and the color left her cheeks.

“Wait a second, hold up!” their Blue Paladin said, loudly cutting across whatever Zethrid’s reply to Ezor was going to be. “Are you telling me that in this reality Lotor, his goon squad, and Keithare the Paladins of Voltron?”

“ _Goon squad_?” Ezor repeated, all of her casual friendliness gone, replaced by a glare.

Their Blue Paladin said, “You heard me,” in a slightly defensive tone as he raised his Bayard between them.

Insult aside, Keith bristled at their Blue Paladin’s exclusionary language. “I’m part of this ‘goon squad,’ you know,” he said.

Their Yellow Paladin frowned at him. “Don’t say that about yourself, man.”

Keith gritted his teeth, and threw his hands up. “Why  _wouldn’t_ I say I’m part of my own—?”

“That’s impossible,” the Pink Paladin said, cutting across him. “There’s no way—” She cut herself off, took a breath, and glared hard at Lotor as she demanded (in a voice that was commendably stronger than it had been just a second before), “What happened here? How did you come to be in possession of this Castle?”

“I would be happy to explain, but I fear we’re skipping a crucial step,” Lotor said. He took a step forward, standing level with Keith and Acxa (and after exchanging a glance with her, both Keith and Acxa readied their own Bayards just in case), before he said, “It’s customary to introduce oneself to others before demanding things of them, isn’t it, Princess Allura of Altea?”

Keith’s eyes widened as realization and remembrance clicked in his head.

_Oh_.

_That_ was how he knew her voice.

It was no wonder he had forgotten. It had been a decaphoeb and some change since they had first arrived with the Red Lion and had taken the Castle, and the time he had spent around her had been very brief. Though she and her servant—Coran, Keith guessed his name was, given what she had said over the communications channel earlier—had resisted, between the six of them it hadn’t taken much effort to get them both into the detention cells until they could be transferred to the planet Hauli in the Alosa system. Once she was detained, there was no need to spend any more time around her. Zethrid, Ezor, and Acxa had stood guard while Lotor, Keith, and Narti focused both on getting them to Hauli, and locating the other Lions. And once Allura and her servant had been dropped off on Hauli, well . . . out of sight, out of mind. They hadn’t heard from either of them since then.

“We have no need to introduce ourselves to you,” Allura said coldly. “Tell us how you came to be in possession of this Castle.”

“We don’t want to have to ask again,” their Black Paladin said in a hard voice, and Ezor tried and failed to bite back a sputtered laugh.

“Besides, if you’re going to tell someone else to introduce themselves, shouldn’t  _you_ introduce  _yourself_ first?” their Blue Paladin demanded.

“Lance, that’s really not the point here,” their Black Paladin said.

Their Blue Paladin—Lance—scowled. “And I thought we were supposed to be keeping our names secret,  _Shiro_?”

“This is going  _so_ well,” their Green Paladin deadpanned.

“Nonetheless, I do suppose Lance here has a point,” Lotor said, and while they had both looked a bit sheepish at the fact that they had revealed their names without intending to, both Lance and Shiro (along with the rest of their team) looked back at Lotor. “It is only polite for us to introduce ourselves first. Very well. I am Prince Lotor, commander of the Castle of Lions, and part-time pilot of the Black Lion.”

“How?” their Yellow Paladin asked, before Keith could introduce himself in turn. “This Castle’s still Altean, right? And you’re Galra. How do you fly it?”

“I am as Altean as I am Galra,” Lotor said, and every member of the other team looked some degree of appalled. “I assure you, this Castle’s technology is not at all beyond me. Any other questions?” When he was met with silence, he said, “Good,” and waved one hand in Keith’s direction.

Keith folded his arms again. “My name’s Keith. I also pilot the Black Lion.”

“Yeah, we know,” Lance said, and he shot Keith a dirty look as he said it. Keith glared back at him. Before Keith could retort, however, Lotor gestured to Acxa.

Acxa shifted her stance just enough so that the eyes of the other Paladins were drawn to the Bayard she still had in a tight grip. Though she held it by her side, she turned her wrist just so to indicate that she was ready to use it on a tick’s notice. “Acxa,” she said. “Red Paladin.”

Lotor didn’t have time to gesture to Ezor before she spun her own Bayard in her grip and said, “I’m Ezor, and I’m the Blue Kitty’s pilot. And that’s,” she pointed across the room to Narti, “Narti, and she pilots Green.”

“Shouldn’t she introduce  _herself_?” the other team’s Yellow Paladin asked. In response, Kova hissed loudly, arching her back as every strand of her fur stood on end. Their Yellow Paladin raised his hands in a placating gesture as he said, “Okay, okay. I was just asking.”

“Try asking less rude questions next time,” Ezor said. The look their Yellow Paladin gave her was nothing short of offended.

But before their Yellow Paladin could say anything more, Lotor caught Zethrid’s eye, and she stepped forward before the group. She wasn’t holding her Bayard, but when she flexed her arms, the lights above glinted off her armor.

“The name’s Zethrid,” she said, “and I’m the Paladin of the Yellow Lion.”

“Funny,” the other team’s Yellow Paladin said, looking her up and down, “because that’s  _my_ Lion, and I don’t think he’d like you very much.”

Zethrid grinned, baring her teeth. “Wanna bet?”

“What  _I_  want,” Lotor drawled, bringing their attention back to him, “is for our remaining two guests to introduce themselves.” He eyed the other team’s Green Paladin and Yellow Paladin, the former of which raised her chin defiantly. “Care to share now that we’ve all done the same?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass,” their Green Paladin said.

“Yeah, me too,” their Yellow Paladin said.

Lotor shook his head, but he was smiling. “So be it. Your commitment to your decision is commendable, even if it is futile. Narti?”

She was so quick that Keith was sure the other reality Paladins didn’t notice. Both the other team’s Green Paladin’s and Yellow Paladin’s eyes glazed over as Narti—turned completely in their direction, both of Kova’s ears up and her eyes unblinking—sifted through their thoughts. Yet it only lasted for a tick; both of them blinked as she left their minds, and Kova leaped off her shoulder as she bounded out of her chair and crossed the room to Lotor. Keith stepped back as Narti stepped forward, but it only took another tick for her to brush her fingers across the back of his hand and deliver the information he needed. His eyes briefly closed as he “heard” what she had to tell him, and when he opened them, he smiled.

“Thank you,” he said. Narti nodded before she returned to her workstation. Kova jumped back on her shoulder the moment she sat down.

Lotor, on the other hand, turned back to the other team. “It seems your name is Hunk,” he said, looking briefly at the other team’s Yellow Paladin, before he turned his eyes to the other team’s Green Paladin and added, “And do you prefer to be called Pidge, or Katie?”

Their Green Paladin’s—Pidge, or Katie, or whatever her name was—eyes widened. “What—how did you—?!”

“Okay, that is  _really_ creepy,” Hunk said. “What—what just happened? How did you know that?”

“Narti told me,” Lotor said simply. He raised his eyebrows at their Green Paladin. “Well? Which is it?”

“Pidge,” she said shortly. “But how—”

“She must be a telepath,” Allura ground out. “It’s the only explanation.”

“For real?!” Lance said, and he shot a furious look at Lotor. “That’s cheating! And what are you doing asking us to tell you things when you’ve got a freakin’  _telepath_ on your team?!”

“I have a reputation for good sportsmanship, and I wish to keep it,” Lotor said, and Lance scoffed as Pidge rolled her eyes. Keith glared at them both. “I thought it only fair I gave you all a chance to introduce yourselves first before Narti did it for you.”

“Did Narti also figure out what’s going on with their armor?” Ezor asked. “Because I really wanna know.”

“What  _I_ want to know,” Allura said, anger rising in her voice, “is how you all came to be here. We’ve completed your pleasantry song and dance, Prince Lotor. Tell us how you came to be in possession of the Castle,  _now_. As Shiro said before, we will not ask again.”

“If you won’t ask again, then it’d be  _really_ unfortunate for you if we decided not to answer, wouldn’t it?” Ezor said.

Though the other Paladins glared at her, Lotor decided to not follow through on her taunt.

“I should think the answer would be obvious,” he said, and when they looked back at him, he explained, “We took it.”

“Took it?” Shiro repeated. “How?”

“We found the location thanks to the Red Lion,” Keith said, and all eyes turned to him. “After we arrived—”

“Don’t you mean the  _Blue_ Lion?” Lance interrupted.

Keith frowned. “No. I mean the Red Lion. We didn’t get the Blue Lion until we went to the planet Earth to pick it up.”

“But you’re  _from_ Earth,” Hunk said. “Aren’t you? So how did you end up out here, with these guys?”

Keith furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about? I’ve only ever been to Earth once, and that was to get the Blue Lion. We were there for a few vargas at most.”

“That isn’t true,” Shiro said, and Keith gritted his teeth. “I know it’s not, even if this is another reality. Hunk is right, Keith: You’re from Earth. I met you when you were—”

“I’ve only ever been to Earth once,” Keith repeated. He couldn’t keep his voice from rising any more than he could keep his heartbeat from picking up speed, urged on by a sudden rush of adrenaline. “And I’ve never met any of you before today except for Princess Allura, since we met her when we took the Castle.”

Shiro glared at him. “This is ridiculous—”

“The only thing that’s ridiculous is that you refuse to take him at his word,” Acxa interrupted coldly. “He said that the only time he visited Earth was when we went to get the Blue Lion. We have every reason to believe him. You should try doing the same.”

Shiro turned his glare to her, but he closed his mouth and didn’t respond. Keith looked over to catch Acxa’s eye, and when he did, he mouthed,  _‘Thank you.’_ She nodded once in response.

“I still don’t understand how you managed to ‘take’ the Castle,” Allura bit out. Keith couldn’t blame her for wanting to get back to the original subject. “Surely we would have never allowed you to—”

“You and your servant had been cryo-sleeping for ten thousand years,” Zethrid said bluntly. “And on top of that, there were six of us and two of you. You didn’t put up much of a fight.”

“So, what,” Hunk began, “are the Allura and Coran of this reality . . .”

“. . . dead?” Pidge finished.

Lance cast a horrified look Allura’s way for only a moment before he turned on Keith, fury and accusation all over his face. “You killed them? You  _killed_ them?! What is  _wrong_ with you, how couldyou  _do_ something like—?!”

“Of course we didn’t kill them,” Keith snapped. “Who do you think we are? We put them in the detention cells until we could get them to Hauli.”

“What the heck is Hauli?” Hunk asked.

“It’s a planet in the Alosa system, about 450,000 light-years beyond the Empire’s borders,” Acxa said.

“It’s a really nice planet,” Ezor said. “At least, from what we saw of it. The beaches were pretty, and so was that resort we dropped them off at. So really, you could think of it as less of an exile, and more of a . . .” She grinned, and waved her hand through the air. “Prolonged vacation.”

“More importantly,” Lotor said, “since it’s so far beyond the Empire’s borders, neither my father nor his witch will see much of a point in pursuing this reality’s Princess Allura or her devoted manservant. While neither were particularly happy with the arrangement, I assure you that we did them no harm.”

“No,” Allura only said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You only invaded their Castle, took them hostage, and then exiled them far beyond the reaches of any galaxy they’ve ever known. But since you didn’t take it one step further and hand them over to Zarkon personally, I suppose we’re meant to forgive you.”

“We tried to reason and form an alliance with them,” Acxa said. “But they took one look at us and refused.”

“Of course they did!” Allura said. “You’re all Galra, and Lotor’s the son of Zarkon himself.” She turned to Keith, then, and he felt his throat constrict at the resentful look she threw his way. “And you, Keith. I would  _never_ have expected this from you.”

“Why not?” Keith demanded. “Why do you keep acting like—I don’t even know you!”

Allura looked away. “Clearly.”

Keith balled his hands into fists. This was—why was he being singled out? They had seemed to recognize the others, too. Allura had identified Lotor, Hunk and Pidge had indicated that they recognized Acxa, Narti, Ezor, and Zethrid. So why did they keep focusing on  _him_? Why did they keep accusing him of things he had never done? Why were they acting like he had personally betrayed them? Why were they so insistent that he had come from Earth, that he knew them—what had  _happened_ in their reality?

He closed his eyes for a tick to try to get himself under control. That wasn’t important right now. None of that was important right now. Whatever had happened in their reality—whatever reason they had for continuously singling him out—it didn’t matter. The only thing that did was the here and now.

So rather than respond to the personal slights Allura threw his way, he said, “Look. We needed Voltron. In order to keep Voltron, and in order to find the other Lions, we needed the Castle. You refused—or, the you of  _this_ reality refused to let us use it, so we took it. We had no choice.”

“You know what?” Hunk said suddenly. “I take it back. I don’t like Galra Keith anymore. I want our old Keith back.”

As Zethrid growled sharply and Kova hissed (and Pidge muttered something that sounded a bit like,  _“Our Keith is Galra, too”_ ), Keith glared at Hunk.

“Too bad,” he said, “because  _part-_ Galra Keith is the only Keith you’re going to get.”

Hunk opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Shiro cut across him.

“You said you needed Voltron,” he said, and once again his eyes were narrowed in Keith’s direction. Keith returned the stare in kind. “What could you possibly need Voltron for? The Galra Empire has already dominated half the universe. Zarkon’s ships are powerful enough to destroy any fleet. Why do you  _need_ Voltron at all?”

“You really  _are_ good at missing the obvious, aren’t you?” Ezor asked. Shiro glared at her.

“It’s to neutralize the threat,” Allura said, ignoring Ezor. “Zarkon wanted control of Voltron so that it could not be used against him. Now that he has it—”

“But wait,” Pidge said. “Wasn’t Zarkon obsessed with the Black Lion? He wanted it for himself. So if that’s the case, why’s he letting Keith fly it?”

“Zarkon’s not  _letting_ me do anything,” Keith said, disgusted. “We don’t answer to him, and he doesn’t have anything he didn’t already have before we found the Castle.”

Shiro looked back at Keith. “Then what  _are_  you doing with it?”

“My father and his Empire have ruled this universe for ten thousand years too long,” Lotor said. He smirked a little as all eyes turned to him. “We seek to change that via revolution.”

“Uhh, nu-uh, no way,” Lance said, and he raised one hand in a  _stop_ gesture toward Lotor. “There’s no way you can stand there and try to tell us that  _you’re_ the good guys when  _we’re_ the good guys. That’s not how this works.”

Lotor gave him a disdainful look. “I was under the impression that we were discussing a war, not a children’s game of Police and Rebels. Please feel free to rejoin the conversation when you’ve matured enough to understand that.”

Lance looked scandalized, but Allura spoke up before he could defend himself. “You cannot possibly expect us to believe that you have turned against your own father in order to use Voltron in a form of rebellion,” she said.

Lotor shrugged. “You’re free to believe whatever you wish. It has no effect on the truth either way. That being the case, I believe we’ve answered all your questions. How about you return the courtesy and answer some of ours?”

Allura raised her chin, defiant. “Such as?”

“What reason do you have for visiting this reality?” Lotor took another step forward, and every member of the opposing team took a step back, raising their Bayards defensively. Lotor was unperturbed. “We were examining that rift for our own purposes, but I’m curious of yours. I assume you came to our Castle because you believed it to be yours—”

“It  _is_ —” Allura said, but she cut herself off mid-sentence, as if she had spoken without meaning to.

“No, it’s not,” Zethrid said, having caught Allura’s meaning anyway. “It’s  _ours_.”

“Maybe not for long,” Shiro said. Keith and Acxa both took another step forward, once again standing on either side of Lotor. Narti hopped lightly to her feet, Kova gracefully dropping down to the floor.

“Uh, that’s a nice thought and all, but um—maybe you don’t know, because you were still in the Castle with Coran at the time, but the last time we fought these guys, we . . . kinda got our butts kicked,” Hunk said. “And that was when there was just four of them, and we had Keith.”

Keith’s heart jolted unpleasantly in his chest. That wasn’t—there was no way. He wouldn’t—even in another reality, he would never fight Acxa and the others . . .

. . . would he?

“Yeah, but now we have Shiro,” Lance said. “Shiro can take Keith.”

“Okay, but that still leaves the four who kicked our butts last time, and Lotor,” Hunk said. “I’m just saying, this situation does not look good for us.”

“Well, it definitely doesn’t now that you’re giving us such a big confidence boost,” Ezor said, and she flashed her teeth in a grin.

“Not that we needed it,” Zethrid said, and she scoffed. “I could take half these chumps on my own.”

“Oh, you wanna come over here and say that to my face?” Lance said, and he stepped out from around Shiro to face Zethrid properly, his arms spread wide. He was posturing, and very obviously so, but that didn’t stop Zethrid’s lips from splitting in a manic grin wide enough to reveal each of her teeth as she started toward him.

“Gladly,” she said, a fierce growl in her voice, and Lance’s eyes widened as he took a step back.

“That won’t be necessary,” Lotor said. Zethrid stopped in her tracks and sent a frown Lotor’s way, but even as she did, he said, “Narti?”

Without turning, Narti gave her workstation’s console a few quick taps with her fingers. That was all it took; in the next tick the rear door opened once again, and each of the alternate reality Paladins were forced to scramble back, closer to the center of the room, as all twenty members of Auxiliary Team One filed in, weapons drawn.

“What is—who are these people?” Allura demanded.

“These are the members of Auxiliary Team One, one of several teams of part-Galra we’ve been training to assist in our revolution,” Lotor said.

“So you have an  _army_ living in this Castle?” Hunk asked. “Okay, now things look even worse for us than they did before.”

“Unbelievable,” Allura said scathingly. “You have Voltron, and yet you’re training armies no differently from your father—”

“Uh, you heard the part where he said that the people on the auxiliary teams are  _part_ -Galra, right?” Ezor asked.

“It makes no difference,” Allura said coldly.

Ezor narrowed her eyes. “Take it from me, a part-Galra: It makes a  _big_ difference.”

“Voltron is a powerful weapon,” Keith said, feeling it best to change the subject to something Allura and the others could hopefully understand. “There are few things in the universe that can rival it, and it’s vital to taking down Zarkon. But all Voltron can do is defend and destroy, and we need to do so much—”

“Voltron is more than just a weapon,” Allura interrupted, and she glared at Keith. “It is a symbol of hope, of victory and eventual peace, and it inspires all who see it. The fact that you do not recognize that is proof enough that you do not deserve to have it.”

“While Voltron may indeed be the symbol you speak of,” Lotor said, “the fact remains, Princess Allura, that symbols do not win wars. Soldiers do. Your words are beautiful, but in the face of an Empire that has ruled for ten thousand years, they are easily crushed. And if you arm the revolution with nothing more than ideals and empty promises, then so, too, are they.”

“The promise of Voltron is  _not_ empty,” Allura said fiercely. “And giving people hope when they’ve had none for ten thousand years—giving them  _something_ to believe in when they’ve had  _nothing_ , is not—!”

“We  _are_ giving them something to believe in,” Keith said, and though she turned her scowl back to him, he didn’t back down. “ _Themselves_. Voltron is the most powerful weapon in the universe, but it’s also only  _one_ weapon, or five if you count each Lion separately. Voltron can’t be everywhere at once. It’s not possible. While none of the Empire’s fleets can match Voltron in terms of raw strength, that won’t stop them from going back to planets we’ve brought to our side and crushing them while we’re on the other side of the universe trying to help someone else. So we’re teaching them—we’re  _training_ them so that they can defend and protect themselves. We’re giving them the strength they need to hit back against the Empire when Zarkon’s commanders come knocking on their doors. We’ll help them when we can, but we won’t always be able to. Voltron won’t always be there. They need to be able to believe in and defend themselves when the time comes.”

“That’s just an excuse to get out of helping people,” Lance said.

Fire lashed through Keith’s veins. “No, it’s not!”

“It’s all right, Keith,” Lotor said, and he raised one hand to show that the conversation was finished. “It’s clear they won’t understand regardless of what we say. We have differing strategies for how to deal with my father’s Empire; no matter how long we stand here and argue about it, it’s clear that won’t change.”

“Right,” Hunk said. “Good call. So, uh . . . can we go?”

“No,” Lotor said, and he smiled broadly as the other Paladins stepped back into a tight knot, their backs together as they faced the opposition that surrounded them on all sides. “I still have many remaining questions about your Lions, as well as the Voltron of your reality. If I let you go, I won’t get the answers I seek.”

“You won’t get what you want if you keep us, either,” Shiro said. “We aren’t going to tell you.”

“I’m aware, but your cooperation isn’t necessary for Narti,” Lotor said, and Shiro’s face blanched. “Nonetheless, I don’t believe you have the knowledge I seek regardless. It’s your Lions themselves I wish to study.”

“Well, you can’t have them,” Lance snapped.

Lotor smirked. “It isn’t a matter of whether I can or can’t. It’s a matter of whether I will or won’t, and I assure you: I will. Auxiliary Team One, take them.”

Auxiliary Team One didn’t wait for Lotor to finish giving the order before they pounced, and the skirmish was over in dobashes. The alternate reality Paladins were outnumbered four to one, and that wasn’t counting the actual Paladins that surrounded them. Ezor tripped Shiro as he jumped back to try and put distance between himself and the four auxiliary team members that went after him, allowing them to dogpile him in less than a tick; Lance raised his Bayard to fire at those that came at him, but Acxa’s shot was faster, and the blast that hit his wrist dropped his Bayard from his hand; Pidge tried to jump back, away from the auxiliary team members that went after her, but her attempt to put distance between them did nothing more but send her crashing back into Zethrid. Before Pidge had time to put distance between them again, Zethrid locked her arm around Pidge’s neck in a chokehold, and lifted her clear off the ground.

“Take her Bayard and then put her down, Zethrid,” Lotor said, raising his voice to be heard over the struggle.

“Why?” Zethrid asked. Pidge swung her arm to slam her Bayard against Zethrid’s leg, but before she made contact, Narti darted forward and snapped her fingers around Pidge’s wrist, twisting it as she pulled Pidge’s arm up and back. Pidge tried to pull her arm free, but from the way she was kicking back against Zethrid (something Zethrid didn’t seem to notice) and her cheeks were tinting blue, it was clear she was more concerned about breathing than keeping her Bayard, which allowed Narti to pull it from her hand. “Bad enough you called in the auxiliary team to take out the rest of these stooges; at least let me take care of this one.” She looked down at Pidge, whose kicks were growing weaker. “I wonder if her head’ll come off.”

“Put her down,” Keith said.

“We don’t want them dead, we want them captured,” Lotor said, “so I would prefer it if her head remained on her shoulders for now. Release her, Zethrid.”

Zethrid rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. You guys are no fun.”

She dropped Pidge to the floor, and Pidge landed on her hands and knees, gasping and coughing for air. This made it more than easy for two of the auxiliary team members to grab her, wrenching her arms behind her back before binding her wrists in cuffs. With the number of auxiliary team members needed to restrain Pidge reduced to two, the remaining two were able to aid the four subduing Hunk. And once his Bayard had been tossed to Zethrid and his hands, too, were cuffed behind his back, the battle (if it could be called that) was over.

“Thank you. You all did marvelously,” Lotor said, drawing mingled reactions of pride and bashfulness from Auxiliary Team One. “Take them down to the detention cells, and assign two guards to each. We don’t want to take any chances.”

“Yes, sir!” the auxiliary soldiers chorused.

The alternate reality Paladins, even handcuffed, did not go quietly. Pidge tried to duck around the auxiliary team members shepherding her, so that one of them—Birken—had to hoist her up and toss her over his shoulder as he carried her, swearing despite the rasp in her voice from being choked by Zethrid, from the room. It took all six of the members who had pinned Hunk to begin with to herd him through the door, and while Lance was easily restrained by two members alone, his shrieking could be heard echoing easily down the hall even after they pushed him through the exit. Neither Allura nor Shiro resisted much physically, though Shiro did jerk free every time the auxiliary team tried to put hands on him, and he shot Keith a disparaging look just before he exited the room. Allura, on the other hand, paused in the doorway just long enough to deliver a scathing look back at Lotor.

“This is not over,” she said.

Lotor smirked in kind. “I would be disappointed if it was.”

Allura threw one last baleful look to Lotor before the door closed, muting any sounds of struggle from the corridor and leaving their team alone in the bridge at last.

Ezor sighed in what sounded like both amazement and relief as she leaned back against her workstation, one foot kicked up against her chair, and folded her arms loosely against her stomach.

“Well, that was certainly something,” she said, and then she looked over at Keith. “Wonder what their problem with you was, though.”

Keith grimaced. “You noticed?”

“It was impossible not to,” Zethrid said. “It was like they couldn’t keep their eyes off you. What the hell did you  _do_ in that reality of theirs?”

It wasn’t just Ezor and Zethrid; Lotor and Acxa were watching him as well, and even Narti and Kova were turned in his direction. Keith hadn’t felt calm since Pidge’s eyes had first focused on him after the alternate Paladins had entered the room, but though he had hoped things would calm down and return to normal once the alternate reality Paladins were carted off to the detention cells, he could see now that wasn’t going to be the case. Every nerve in his body felt jittery, and he crossed his arms over his chest in an effort to quell the sickening tumble of anxiety in his chest.

“I don’t know,” he said. “How should I? I’ve never been there.”

Ezor shrugged. “That’s fair.”

“It’s also not the most pertinent topic of discussion right now,” Lotor said, drawing their attention back to him. “As much as I am still interested in testing the rift to see if constructing a gate over it would be possible, examining the Voltron Lions that came from the other reality is more important. We need to see what similarities they bear to ours, both in terms of whether it would be possible for us to pilot them, and—as Acxa mentioned previously—if the sentience within them remains the same.”

“Would you like us to go take a look?” Acxa asked.

Lotor nodded. “Yes. Report your findings to me when you have them. I’ll continue to collect data on the quintessence frequency of the rift so we don’t lose too much time with regards to our original project.”

“Understood,” Acxa said. She caught Keith’s eye briefly before she started toward the rear exit, Narti, Ezor, and Zethrid all following suit. Keith hesitated for only a tick; he could feel Lotor’s eyes on him, and there was a twinge in the back of his mind that Lotor was about to ask him something. Keith, unlike Narti, had no way of knowing what question burned on the tip of Lotor’s tongue, but considering what had just transpired, he had a feeling he didn’t want to find out. So instead of lingering behind, he met Lotor’s eyes only long enough to nod and show that he, too, understood what Lotor wanted them to do. He then turned and jogged to catch up with the others, slipping through the rear entrance just before the door slid shut.

“. . . why  _pink_?” Ezor was saying as Keith caught up to them. “I mean, it’s a nice color. It complemented her well. But she was flying  _my_ kitty, right? So why was she wearing  _pink_ armor?”

“I don’t know, Ezor,” Acxa said, in the same soul-weary tone she often used whenever Ezor became hooked on a particular topic.

“And which kitty does the guy wearing the blue armor fly? Hey, Narti.” Ezor skipped a few paces ahead, and elbowed Narti lightly in the side. “Did you figure out what was going on with their armor when you rooted through their minds?”

Kova loosed a low croon as Narti shook her head. Ezor sighed heavily.

“Great. Now we’ll probably never know, since they don’t seem willing to tell us.” She paused, and then spun on her heel so that she could walk backwards down the corridor, looking at Keith. “What do you think, Keith?”

Keith blinked. “What do I think about what?”

“Which kitty do you think the guy who was wearing blue armor flies?”

“Uhh . . .” Keith was about to repeat Acxa’s answer from before (“ _I don’t know”_ ) when a flash of memory from back in the bridge sparked in his mind. “He was holding the red Bayard, so I guess he pilots the Red Lion.”

“ _What_?” Ezor gaped at him. “Then why wasn’t he wearing the red armor? It’s not like anyone else was wearing it. Unless . . .” Her eyes widened. “Do you think he and Princess Allura swapped armors? Although, her armor isn’t red, either . . . maybe the Red Kitty is the Pink Kitty in their reality?”

“It looked red when we saw it through the viewport,” Zethrid said.

Ezor waved her hand dismissively in the air. “That could have just been what it looked like through the viewport, though, and we only saw it for a few ticks—”

“It was several dobashes at  _least_.”

“—so who knows, it could’ve been Pink.”

By this point they had reached an intersection in the Castle’s corridors. Straight ahead would lead them to the exit that Acxa was planning on having them use so that they could slip out without their Lions to go check on the Lions the other reality’s Paladins had brought with them. To the left was an elevator that led down to the second to last level, where the training rooms were located. Keith paused at the intersection as the others calmly walked through it, and after deliberating for a moment with his eyes on the elevator, he said, “Hey—I’m going to go get some training in instead.”

Acxa, Narti, Ezor, and Zethrid all stopped, and turned back to him with varying expressions of bewilderment.

“Huh?” Ezor said.

Keith jerked his thumb in the direction of the elevator. “The training room should be free right now. I’m going to go take advantage of that. You guys can check out the other Lions without me, can’t you?”

Acxa frowned, her brow pinching together in the middle. “Lotor said he wanted us  _all_ to check them out.”

“Lotor just wants to see how similar their Lions are to ours. If Red, Green, Blue, and Yellow all match up, there’s no reason why Black won’t,” Keith said. “You don’t need me to verify that.”

“Yeah, but why should  _you_ get to train when the  _rest_ of us have to work?” Zethrid said, and she grinned as she punched one fist into her opposite palm. “Let me come spar with ya.”

“No,” Acxa said sharply. “We can’t all blow this off. Lotor’s counting on us to examine the Lions.”

Zethrid scowled at her. “You know, if Keith’s the Fun Police Deputy, you’re the Fun Police Sheriff.”

Keith and Acxa frowned, and as one they said, “Hey.”

“And Lotor’s the Fun Police Chief,” Zethrid added, ignoring both of them. “Sometimes, at least. Not as consistently as you two. But definitely back there when I was choking out that little one.”

“That’s because we had no reason to kill her,” Keith said. “That’s not what we’re about.”

“Whatever you say, Deputy,” Zethrid said. Keith rolled his eyes

Evidently feeling it better to change the subject than continue the one they were on, Acxa turned to Keith. When their eyes met, she asked, “Are you sure this can’t wait until after we examine the Lions?”

He should say no. Keith knew he should say no, that he had a job and a responsibility to do—that they all did, and that personal matters didn’t justify getting in the way of what needed to be done. It was a reasonable conclusion to reach that the Black Lion would be the same if the others were (or vice versa), but that didn’t make it definite. It didn’t make it certain. The only way they would know for sure is if he managed to get into the cockpit. If he didn’t even try, then whether the Black Lion remained the same or not would remain a question none of them could fully answer.

But as he looked back at Acxa, the word  _no_ lodged in his throat. They didn’t seem to be treating him differently. Ezor had still tried pulling him into the conversation, and Zethrid was teasing him as per usual. Acxa looked concerned, and Kova’s tail swished slowly along Narti’s back as Narti turned fully in his direction. But every nerve in his body still felt like it was tingling with restless, anxious energy; he couldn’t help but feel that something had been slammed between them, wedged in there by the other reality Paladins’ accusations and questioning eyes. They had known him—they had seemed to know him, even if nothing they said made any sense. What did that mean? What could have happened? There was no way of knowing—Keith had never been to their reality, and he had no intention of visiting—but the fact that it was a question at all made it hard for him to sit still, or play along as if everything was normal.

So instead of agreeing with Acxa that his training could wait, what he said instead was, “The training room is going to be booked later with the auxiliary teams’ training sessions. This is the only time it’s free.” He paused, and then—because of a look in Acxa’s eyes that told him she was about to counter—added in a lower voice, “I . . . need this right now, Acxa.”

Acxa held his gaze for a moment more, yet then nodded.

“All right,” she said, her voice just as quiet as his had been. “I understand. We’ll talk later.”

Keith nodded.

“Zethrid, Ezor, Narti,” Acxa said, her voice at a more conversational volume now as she turned to continue heading toward the exit, “Let’s go.”

Narti turned and started back down the corridor without complaint. Zethrid grumbled a little, but similarly followed after Acxa and Narti. Ezor, on the other hand, paused before she followed after the others, and grinned right before she swiftly reached out and tapped Keith’s nose with one finger.

“See you in a bit,” she said. “We’ll let you know how the Black Kitty looks when we get back.”

Despite his mood, Keith smiled a little. “Thanks.”

Ezor shrugged, her smile unwavering, before she turned and headed down the corridor after the others. Keith watched them go for only a moment before he turned to head toward the training rooms instead.

He wasn’t lying when he said the training rooms were always booked solid. At the moment, they had three auxiliary teams of twenty soldiers apiece they were training. Sessions were broken up not only by teams, but also by method of combat. Swordsmanship lessons were with Keith; marksmanship with Acxa; conditioning and strength training with Zethrid; agility and stealth with Ezor; and hand-to-hand combat with Narti. The eventual goal was to find two or three qualified captains within each auxiliary team that could continue to train the rest; once that was accomplished, the auxiliary teams could stay on planets they convinced to revolt against Zarkon to train the civilians that lived there, arming them not only with weapons, but also the expertise to put those weapons to good use. It was all well and good to find planets that were supportive of Lotor one day taking the throne (and turning the Empire into more of a galactic federation while he was at it), but it would do them no good if those planets were swatted by the Empire the tick word of their changed allegiance got out. Training the auxiliary teams so that they could train (and protect until they were trained) the civilians of those planets was crucial. If they failed this step, their revolution would never go anywhere.

That meant, though, that the training room was kept under a rigid schedule. Even when there weren’t lessons being taught by one of the Paladins, the auxiliary teams all had their own individual training sessions. And when they weren’t training, the actual members of Team Voltron all had scheduled blocks of training so that they didn’t fall behind in their own skills. It was rare to see the training room free, and though he had chunks of time in the training schedule blocked off for himself (mostly late at night, when the others were sleeping), Keith still felt it worthwhile to take advantage of the fact that the room was free now. It felt welcoming, anyway, when he stepped into the training room to find it blissfully empty and silent. He shed the top piece of his armor and tossed it against the wall by the door (he didn’t mind fighting in full Paladin armor—it was easy enough to move in—but he wanted to relax, and full Paladin armor wasn’t exactly the best for relaxing in), and once he had rolled shoulders to work out some of the stiffness in them, he called, “Start Training Level Fo—Three.”

Considering his preoccupation, it was probably best to start off slow.

A hole opened in the ceiling, and the requested training A.I. dropped down. Its singular eye glinted, and in the next tick it charged at Keith, sword drawn. Keith met the strike head-on with his Bayard’s sword, the clang of steel on rift ore echoing through the training room, the A.I. pushing back hard against the opposition Keith threw against it.

Keith smiled, a little of the tension that had taken root in his chest loosening.

_Good._

This was good—natural, normal. This was where he  _belonged._  He shoved back against the A.I. to turn their lock into a parry, spinning on the ball of his foot so he could sweep his blade toward the A.I.’s waist in a wide arc. The A.I. leaped out of the way, putting enough distance between them so it could try to strike at Keith again from a new angle. Once again Keith caught the A.I.’s blade on his own, and pushed both swords up so that he could quickly spin his Bayard in his hand, and go in for a forward thrust instead.

It was stupid to think he could be anywhere else—to think the  _situation_ could be anything else. Anything went in an alternate reality, he guessed; it’s why it was an  _alternate reality_. Keith didn’t know the specifics of how all the different realities worked; they had only briefly visited one once before to retrieve the comet. But although that reality had presented a history in which Daibazaal had never been destroyed and the Galra Empire had spread its borders much farther than they presently had, nothing about it had prepared him for the possibility that somewhere, in another reality, his history was . . .  _completely_ different from what it was here. He supposed he didn’t know what had happened to him in the comet reality; none of the Galra commanders they had encountered had recognized him, and it had taken them time to recognize Lotor. Maybe the fact that they didn’t recognize him was a bad sign, one he hadn’t considered. Maybe he and Lotor hadn’t known each other in  _that_ reality, either. But there was a difference between not knowing each other and being  _enemies_ , and from the way the alternate reality Paladins had made it sound, in  _their_ reality, they were— _he_ was—

He ducked under the A.I.’s blade and spun around to put himself behind his robotic opponent. Before the A.I. had a chance to turn, Keith jumped, and swung his sword down in a strong vertical arc. His blade crashed against the A.I.’s shoulder, but while a normal soldier would have dropped his weapon and crumpled in an instant, the A.I. pulled back so that Keith was forced to flip overhead. Keith spun the tick his foot touched the ground, and it wasn’t a tick too soon; he had to hastily raise his sword to block the counterstrike the A.I. leveled against him, and he skipped back a few steps to put more distance between them.

He couldn’t imagine it. He couldn’t imagine what could have possibly unfolded in that reality to make him  _change allegiances_ like that. But then, was it even a question of changed allegiance? What was it they said—Hunk and Shiro had said he was from the planet Earth, right? Keith scoffed, even as he once again parried the A.I.’s strike. Earth. He couldn’t say very much about the planet. He hadn’t been lying when he said they had only been there for a few vargas at most. The most he had seen of it was the view of it from a distance (most of it was covered in water), and the desert terrain where they had excavated the Blue Lion. But what he did see was . . . he couldn’t imagine growing up there. Not because there was anything wrong with it, really, but because it was so . . .

Keith narrowed his eyes, his fingers constricting around the hilt of his Bayard. When he slammed his sword against the A.I.’s, he did so with more force behind the blow than necessary.

It was so unlike Revender.

Not that thatwas a  _bad_  thing. Revender had been—but that didn’t matter. No matter how it had been, Keith didn’t regret the years he had to spend there. It was because he had grown up there that he met Acxa. It was because he had grown up there that he met Lotor. He wouldn’t be where he was today if not for that. Whatever he had gone through, it was all worth it in the end.

But apparently, his alternate reality self  _couldn’t relate._

The A.I. once again danced around him in a futile bid to attack him from behind, and Keith pivoted on the ball of his foot to meet its blade. But while he followed the A.I. with his eyes as it tried to skip into his blind spot, he failed to notice that he was no longer alone in the training room until he saw Lotor’s blade swinging in a vertical arc toward his face. Reacting on instinct, Keith swung his own sword up to meet Lotor’s in a clumsy block that forced him backward on unsteady steps. He hardly had time to regain his footing before Lotor pounced on him again, swinging his sword in a diagonal, upward strike. Keith was forced to transfer his Bayard to his left hand to block it, yet even as he threw his momentum into a spin to force Lotor back, Lotor merely smirked at him as he pulled his sword away from Keith’s to stab it behind him instead.

The A.I. that had been about to run Lotor through jolted to a standstill as Lotor’s blade pierced through its abdomen, and it fizzled out as the training program ended.

“Well, that is unusual,” Lotor said, and as he sheathed his blade, Keith returned his Bayard to its dormant state. “I haven’t been able to get the jump on you in decaphoebs. Mind telling me why that is?”

“Because I usually expect you to be in the training room with me,” Keith said, and he wiped the sweat from his brow off on the back of his hand. “This time I didn’t. You surprised me. How’s the rift doing?”

“The rift is the same as it was before,” Lotor said, and he followed Keith as Keith started back toward the door of the training room to collect his armor, “but that isn’t what I’m here to discuss. Yes, Keith, I’m perfectly aware that I surprised you. My question is why. You’re normally far more attentive than that.”

Keith shrugged. “I was just . . . thinking about other stuff. Focused on the fight. It took concentration.”

“That was Training Level Three.”

“I know.”

“You need to be on at least Four, if not Five, to be challenged.”

Keith pressed his lips together in a tight frown as he retrieved his armor from where he had thrown it. He had nothing to say to that, because Lotor was right.

“So,” Lotor said, with the air of one who had been tasked with beating a circle into the dirt around a bush, and was not at all happy with it, “mind telling me what caused you such distraction during your training session?”

Keith looked at Lotor askance. Lotor was watching him, staring at him in that way he so often did, as if Keith was a puzzle that was both fascinating and frustrating all at once. He wanted to know— _genuinely_ wanted to know what was on Keith’s mind. Yet although the thing Keith couldn’t stop himself from dwelling on tangentially affected Lotor as well, Keith shook his head and exited through the doors.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I was just . . . thinking about nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Lotor followed him through the exit, and fell into easy step beside him. He was quiet for a few ticks as the two of them headed toward the . . . lounge, Keith supposed, that was as good a place as any. Yet when they stepped onto the elevator to return to the main floor to go to the lounge, Lotor dropped his voice to a calm, observational tone as he said:

“Yet although assurances that all is well fall from the young general’s lips, his brow creases in deep and troublesome thought, worry swirling like dark clouds in his eyes.”

Despite himself, Keith couldn’t help but sputter a laugh. He shut his eyes, and leaned his head against the wall of the elevator as he said, “Okay, I get it. Good one.”

“. . . he says, but fatigue borne of stress sags his shoulders and leaves him slumped against the side of the elevator, head bowed.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Lotor, seriously—”

“The young general lifts his head at last; it is evident that agitation quarrels with the anxiety within him,” Lotor continued, blatantly smirking now. The elevator doors opened, and Keith—not waiting for an invitation—made his way through them to head toward the lounge. Lotor fell into step beside him once more, and his commentary didn’t miss a beat. “His strides are long and purposeful, yet tense. It is clear that he is intent on combating an external problem in an effort to mask the internal strife that rages within.”

“Okay, seriously, that’s really enough,” Keith said, as they entered the (thankfully empty) lounge at last. Keith dropped down onto the sofa, depositing his armor on the floor beside him, and leaned his head back against the cushions. “You’ve more than made your point. I’ve got it.”

“Hmm.” Lotor took a seat on the sofa as well, leaving just enough space between them to be comfortable. “If that’s so, then I assume you’re ready to confess what’s on your mind?”

“It’s really nothing,” Keith said, but he regretted it the second the words left his mouth and he saw the glint in Lotor’s eyes.

“But despite his insistence that nothing is amiss, the young general’s—”

“It’s just,” Keith said, loudly enough to be heard over Lotor’s narration, though once Lotor stopped talking, Keith lowered his own voice, turning his eyes to the floor. “I’m just . . . thinking about what those other Paladins said. The ones from the other reality.”

“Those are the only  _other_ Paladins I’m aware of, yes,” Lotor said. “What in specific did they say that concerns you?”

Aware that it was dangerously close to becoming the catchphrase of the day (though it wasn’t as if they hadn’t had worse), Keith turned back to Lotor and said, “Isn’t it obvious? They . . . knew me, Lotor. They were convinced I was part of their team, or that I should be. Apparently in their reality . . . I am.”

“Yes,” Lotor said. He was seated on the sofa so that he was turned fully toward Keith, his elbow resting on the back cushions. He leaned his cheek against curled fingers, his eyes never leaving Keith’s face. “I’m aware.”

Keith stared back at him, his brow furrowed. “And doesn’t that . . .  _bother_ you?”

Lotor shrugged. “Not particularly.”

Keith’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, as though he had missed a step while walking down stairs. Given how he heard and, logically, understood the words Lotor had just said, yet didn’t understand how they made sense given the context, he felt like he had missed a step processing things in his head, too.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Their reality is only that:  _their_ reality. It has no bearing on ours, save for this little jaunt they’ve decided to make across the rift,” Lotor said. “Whatever occurred in their reality is inconsequential to what we’ve accomplished here. Whatever occurred in their reality is inconsequential to what we  _will_ accomplish here. Imagining a reality where you and I are in opposition isn’t pleasant, but it also isn’t necessary. In  _this_ reality—in  _our_ reality—we are together.  _That_  is all that matters.”

Keith was quiet for a long moment as he turned Lotor’s words over in his head. Everything he said made sense—it made perfect sense. Knowing what they now did about the other reality, it was unlikely they would try to cross the rift themselves, even if they still tried building a gate over as a preliminary test for the rift in the ruins of Daibazaal. If they never crossed this rift, that meant they had no reason to worry about the reality on the other side. Whatever  _that_ reality’s version of him was doing, it didn’t matter. Whatever reason  _that_ version of him had for opposing Lotor, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t think of a reason why he would change allegiances now—couldn’t think of anything short of Lotor flipping on everything they had worked so hard for that could drive them apart. Whatever had happened in the other reality to make them enemies— _if_ anything had happened to make them enemies—it more than likely didn’t have a place here.

“You’re right,” he said finally, and he looked over to meet Lotor’s smile with his own. “I was worrying over nothing.”

“Yes, I know,” Lotor said, and though Keith rolled his eyes, he couldn’t really wipe the smile from his face. “Though I have to say once again that it is a bit surprising. You’re ordinarily so grounded in the present; it truly is unusual for you to fret over something so abstract.”

“I’ll do my best to keep myself together better next time,” Keith said dryly.

Lotor shrugged. “As you wish. But should you encounter difficulty, know that I’ll never have any qualms about setting the record straight.”

Despite the light notes of teasing and boast in his tone, Keith recognized Lotor’s support for what it was. As turned back to meet Lotor’s eyes once more, he couldn’t say it was surprising. This was how they had always been. He had agreed to lend his support to Lotor’s cause—had agreed to  _believe_ in Lotor as worthy of the throne—and Lotor in turn had agreed to lend his support to (and  _believe_  in) Keith.In the decaphoebs they had known each other, this had become less of a decided upon agreement, and more of an implicit reality. Regardless of anything that had happened in Keith’s life before he and Lotor had met, the fact that they supported and believed in one another without faltering was true now. The bond they shared was unbreakable, un _shake_ able, even in the face of another reality that threatened to contradict everything they understood about one another.

Before he had time to process or organize these thoughts, Keith blurted, “I’m glad that we’re together, in  _this_ reality.”

Lotor blinked, yet then smiled. It wasn’t one of his typical smirks or grins of amusement, and there were no traces of mirth in his eyes even as his smile seemed to light them.

“As am I,” Lotor said, his voice as soft as his smile. “You are invaluable to me, Keith.”

_Oh._

Keith felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs.

_Invaluable_. That wasn’t a word Keith had ever thought of in relation to himself. There were others he could name, other ways he could think of to describe himself, but something like  _invaluable_ never made the list. But it wasn’t only that Lotor had said it that mattered; it was that Lotor had said it, and seemed to  _mean_  it. There were no traces of insincerity in his gaze, no hints of teasing or mockery. Keith’s heart was hammering now, for a completely different reason than it had back on the bridge. He swallowed, but that didn’t make it easier to breathe. Nor was it easier when he scrunched his hands in the fabric of the sofa cushion, trying to force his brain to come up with something for him to say.

“Me—uh—I feel, also, that you’re, um—” Keith’s voice shook a little with his hands as Lotor raised his eyebrows. “That you’re, um—you’re—!”

_Screw it_ , Keith thought savagely, resisting the urge to bury his face in the couch cushions out of shame. Words weren’t going to cut this one. Words weren’t good enough. Words weren’t  _needed_ to get the point across. He took a deep breath to steel himself, and then—with no hesitation, no deliberation—he closed his eyes, leaned forward to close the distance between them . . .

. . . and immediately had to jump back as a third person suddenly joined them on the sofa, dropping her camouflaging ability as she wedged herself between them, one arm thrown over each of their shoulders.

“We’re back!” Ezor said brightly, as Keith put a hand against his chest and over his rapidly beating heart. For once, Lotor looked just as startled as Keith felt. “All kitties checked out and accounted for.” She glanced between them, a coy smirk on her lips. “What have you guys been up to?”

“Nothing,” Keith said, but he felt the tiny crack in his voice probably betrayed him. Lotor had already recovered; he scooted back a little on his side of the couch, putting just enough comfortable space between himself and Ezor, while Acxa took a seat on Keith’s other side.

“Mmmhm,” Ezor said, as Narti, Kova, and Zethrid sat down on the opposite ends of the couch. “Okay. Anyway, we checked out the other reality kitties.”

“That sort of thing is usually more successful in private,” Acxa said in an undertone to Keith, as she pretended to examine her nails.

“Were you able to use them?” Lotor asked Ezor.

“You don’t say,” Keith hissed back, glaring at Acxa as a little smirk curled her lips. “You couldn’t have held her back for another couple ticks?”

“Yup!” Ezor said brightly, heedless of the conversation Keith and Acxa were having right next to her. “Blue let me in right away. She knows I’m her one true Paladin.”

“Blue’s also the friendliest of the Lions,” Zethrid said, and Ezor stuck her tongue out at her.

“I thought you’d appreciate being stopped from validating Zethrid’s full course servings of jeering and innuendo,” Acxa said. “But if not, I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Keith’s face flushed hot. “There won’t  _be_  a next time,” he said, and then—although he wasn’t exactly happy about admitting she was right on this one—added, “. . . Thanks.”

Acxa elbowed him in the side. “You’re welcome.”

Keith grinned, and elbowed her back.

“What about the rest of you?” Lotor asked, also heedless to how Keith and Acxa were now pushing each other with steadily increasing force. “Were you able to pilot your Lions?”

“We didn’t try to  _pilot_ them,” Zethrid said, “but they let us in, yeah. Blue didn’t even have a shield up for Ezor, and Green and Yellow dropped their shields for Narti and me fast enough. The Red Lion—” She paused, then said loudly, “Hey, do you two have a problem? Do we need to split you up?”

Keith had been leaning as far to his left as possible, using his weight to push Acxa down into the sofa cushions, while Acxa twisted her arm around his so that she could press her hand against his face to push him off. But when Zethrid interrupted her report to very obviously call them out, both turned to see that Zethrid, Narti (through Kova, but Narti was turned in their direction), Ezor, and Lotor were all staring at them. Keith immediately pulled back from Acxa, who ran her hands down over her stomach and to her lap as though she was wearing clothing that could be wrinkled instead of Paladin armor.

Acxa cleared her throat and said, “No, of course not.”

“Sorry,” Keith said, and he cleared his throat as well. “Won’t happen again.”

“Please continue,” Acxa said.

Ezor broke into a fit of giggles that were badly muffled by her hand, and Lotor was smirking a little. Zethrid shook her head.

“You two are unbelievable,” she said. “Ninety percent of the time you’re all, ‘Lotor said no, Zethrid’ and ‘don’t snap their necks, Zethrid,’ but we take our eyes off you guys for two dobashes during a briefing and you’re like a couple’a kids.”

“Yeah, okay, we get it . . .” Keith said, and though he knew he probably shouldn’t, he couldn’t resist adding, “. . . Fun Police Beat Cop.”

The look Zethrid gave him was nothing short of indignant, even as Acxa grinned and flipped her palm for a low-five. Keith indulged her immediately.

“As amusing as this is,” Lotor said, still smirking, “I really must insist we return to the original topic of discussion. Acxa, were you able to access and control the other reality’s Red Lion?”

Acxa sat up straighter, once again schooling her expression into something more serious and professional, but just as she opened her mouth to answer, the Castle’s alarm blared. Kova shrieked, and jumped so badly she tumbled off Narti’s lap and onto the floor. Ezor, too, sat up, staring up at the ceiling of the Castle in alarm.

“Are we under attack?” she asked, and then—seeming to realize that her question had an obvious answer—added, “By  _who_?”

“Bridge,” Lotor said. All traces of casual amusement were gone. He got to his feet in the same moment Keith and Acxa did, and in lieu of walking around the couch to head to the exit of the lounge, he stepped up and over it. “ _Now_!”

Keith snatched his armor up from the floor and tugged it on as he ran. By the time he hit the exit to the lounge he was sprinting, tearing down the corridors so that he (along with Lotor, Acxa, and the others) could burst onto the bridge. The red emergency lights were flashing along with the blaring alarm, and they didn’t need Lotor to take point at central command in order to see why.

“My father,” Lotor spat, glaring at the viewport. A mass of Empire ships were surrounding them, with Zarkon’s own right in the middle. “Of course.”

“How did they find us?” Ezor said, a note of panic in her voice. “There’s nothing out here but the rift—there aren’t even any nearby planets.”

“Do you think he could have sensed the other Lions?” Keith asked. “He used to be the Black Paladin ten thousand years ago, right? He can’t connect to our Black Lion, but maybe he connected to theirs?”

“It’s a possibility,” Lotor said tersely, “but not one we have time to discuss. We need Voltron. Take to your Lions,  _now_.”

Acxa, Zethrid, Narti, and Ezor didn’t need to be told twice. The four of them scattered, all but leaping into the shafts that would take them to their Lions’ hangers. Only Keith paused long enough to ask, “Do you want Black?”

Lotor’s lips quirked in a mirthless smile. “As much as few things bring me greater satisfaction than rubbing the Black Lion in my father’s face, he’ll be expecting it. It had better be you.”

Keith nodded. “Right. See you out there.”

Without wasting another second, Keith all but threw himself onto the floor exit from the Black Paladin’s workstation to head to his own hangar. By now, he was more than used to the speed ( _slowness_ ) of the descent, but with Zarkon’s forces right outside and others no doubt already fighting, every tick it took to get to the Black Lion’s hangar felt like a tick too long. But as long as it seemed to take, in reality it was only a few dobashes before he was finally in the Black Lion where he belonged, and he put his speed boost on maximum right out of the gate as he shot free of the hangar and into the battle.

“Which one have we got this time?” Ezor asked over the communicator.

“It’s me,” Keith said, as he surveyed the field. Zarkon’s fleet was spread out like a minefield around them, with his battle cruiser in the very back. Keith glared.  _Coward._ “We’ll be here all day if we engage them like this. We need to take them all out at once.”

“Agreed,” Acxa said. “Got an idea on how to do that?”

“I think so,” Keith said. “Try to herd them in a cluster. We can come together and form Voltron above them, and then use the sword to take them out then.”

“I like the sound of that,” Zethrid said, excitement in her voice.

“Good,” Keith said. “Let’s do it!”

The plan wasn’t as easy as it sounded conveyed over communicator. Though each of them ducked and wove around the Empire fighters that hounded them the moment they made their way onto the battlefield, the fighters were not so easily shepherded despite the fire, ice, and laser beams that were fired right back at them. But though it was a struggle, and though they still had to spend at least twenty dobashes taking out a number of Empire fighters to thin the numbers before it was possible, they finally managed to push at least most of them back into a defensive knot.

“There!” Keith said, and he shot toward the group before pulling the Black Lion up into a vertical ascent. “Form Voltron!”

His team didn’t need to be told even once. Keith felt the mind sync occur even before the word  _Voltron_ left his lips. The Red, Green, Blue, and Yellow Lions met him in the center above the crowd, clicking together as though they were always meant to be one. And the moment that he felt the last Lion click into place, he said:

“Acxa!”

“On it!”

Acxa shoved her Bayard into the Red Lion’s Bayard port, swift enough so that Voltron barely had time to hover poised above the enemy fighters before its massive sword was in its hands. As one, Keith and Acxa swung the sword down (Narti, Ezor, and Zethrid maneuvering their Lions just so to give them the needed momentum), and spun in a sharp arc, ripping the blade through the fighter ships.

“Yeah-ah, hell yeah!” Zethrid crowed, as the enemy fighters exploded in a burst of fire and scrap metal. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

Voltron’s sword disappeared as Acxa disengaged her Bayard. As she did, Keith frowned. They had taken out most of the Empire fighters by this point, save for a few that had been hanging back that shot toward them now. All seemed calm in their immediate vicinity, almost as if the battle was over, but—

“Why isn’t Zarkon firing at us?” Acxa asked.

—that. Exactly that.

Zarkon’s battle cruiser was still on the field, but it hadn’t made a single move toward them. Instead, Keith noted in confusion, the battle cruiser was turning  _away from them._ He urged Voltron forward, toward the cruiser, but even when Zethrid and Ezor took the hint and applied the boost to give Voltron a real charge forward (and Acxa and Narti swatted the enemy fighters that tried to engage them like errant flies), Zarkon did not acknowledge them.

Keith furrowed his brow. It made no sense. Why wasn’t Zarkon paying attention to them? What was he—

_‘I believe,’_ Narti said, taking advantage of the Voltron mind sync to communicate more directly with them as she typically did,  _‘that Emperor Zarkon is looking at_ them _.’_

Keith followed her mental nudge to look at a point beyond Zarkon’s battle cruiser, closer to the rift. When he saw what Narti had spotted, his heart dropped.

The other Paladins.

“They  _escaped_?” Zethrid said, outraged. “What the hell was Auxiliary Team One  _doing_?”

“Getting themselves benched or demoted to Auxiliary Team Three, it looks like,” Ezor said, dismayed. “Do you think he thinks they’re us?”

As Keith watched, the other team’s Red and Green Lions reached the rift first. Yellow and Blue weren’t far behind. But though the other team’s Black Lion was following them steadily, it stopped suddenly, and turned back to face the battle cruiser.

Keith’s heart had dropped before, but it felt like it had been stabbed through with ice now.

“We can’t let Zarkon get that Black Lion,” he said. “We can’t let him get anywhere  _close_ to that or any other Lion. If he gets Voltron—”

“We know,” Acxa said.

“Good,” Keith said. “Separate!”

Once again, they followed through before he had a chance to finish giving the command. Acxa, Ezor, Zethrid, and Narti sped toward Zarkon’s battle cruiser, engaging another group of Empire fighters that had decided to join the fray. Keith, meanwhile, tore hell for leather across the battlefield to reach the other team’s Lions, and when he arrived, he swung around so that he was poised between Zarkon’s battle cruiser and the other Black Lion.

“Hey, Zarkon!” Keith said, though he doubted Zarkon had a way of hearing him. “You want a Black Lion? How about you come try mine?”

“. . .  _Keith_?”

The voice that broke over his communications channel didn’t belong to his teammates, nor did it belong to the ten-thousand-year-old emperor he had just challenged to a dogfight. Instead, though it took Keith a tick to place a name to the voice, he recognized that it belonged to Shiro.

Well, it made sense, he supposed. They were all in the same Lions, just from different realities. It made sense they’d be able to connect to one another’s communication channels, just as Allura had been able to connect to the Castle earlier.

“Go!” Keith said, as he swerved the Black Lion out of the way of a blast from Zarkon’s battle cruiser. The absence of a scream from Shiro told Keith that he, too, had managed to avoid taking a hit. “Take your team and go back through the rift!”

As Keith fired a blast back at Zarkon’s battle cruiser, and shot forward to close the distance between them and draw Zarkon’s attention away from Shiro and the other reality Paladins, Shiro said, “You’re fighting Zarkon. We can’t just—”

“This is  _our_ fight,” Keith ground out, and he ducked under another blast from Zarkon’s cruiser. “It’ll create more problems for us if you stay and he gets any of your Lions.”

“He won’t—”

“Just  _go_!”

Keith didn’t have time to look back to see if Shiro followed his instruction. Apparently having had enough of Keith’s interference, Zarkon fired three of his battle cruiser’s cannons simultaneously. Keith ducked and wove through the blasts, coming out over top of the battle cruiser. He stared down at it with a sense of grim satisfaction. The battle cruiser, despite its size, didn’t seem that tough. And if he could take it out . . . if he could end the battle here . . .

“Hey,” he said to the Black Lion, “how would you like to take down your old Pala—?”

He had no time to finish his thought before his Lion was blasted in her left side by a cannon that was in one of her few blind spots. The Black Lion rocketed through the air, and slammed down hard on top of Zarkon’s battle cruiser, tumbling the moment she made contact.

“Ow, okay, okay,” Keith said, as the Black Lion finally rolled to a stop and he felt a flash of outrage from her, interlaced with the pain she felt from the attack. “Sorry about that, that was my bad. Won’t happen again. Let’s get back up—!”

The words died stillborn in his throat.

He hadn’t noticed it at first, given that he was too busy focusing on his Lion being shot down, but the moment he hit the battle cruiser, a glowing purple shield resembling a web sprang to life above him. He could see the turrets that were maintaining the shield just beyond it; yet even when he fired one of the Black Lion’s cannon blasts in an attempt to break through the shield, his attack did nothing more but ricochet off it and slam back down to the top of the battle cruiser.

He was trapped. The whole thing was a trap.

_Damn it._

“Guys?” Keith said, and as he noticed that not only was there a shield above him, but that the roof of the battle cruiser was lined with cannons aimed directly at him, he said a little more urgently, “Hey, I could use some backup over here!”

He jammed forward on the Black Lion’s controls as the first sets of cannons fired, leaping out of the way, but the cannon blasts collided with one another in midair and exploded. Keith was still near enough so that the Black Lion was caught in the blast, and he was once again thrown across the rooftop of the battle cruiser, the Black Lion hissing in pain along with him.

“We would love to give it to you,” Acxa said, and as dazed as he was, it took Keith a moment to process what it was she had said to him. “But unfortunately, Zarkon called for backup first.”

Keith looked up, and through the haze of the shield that was trapping him on the battle cruiser he could see Acxa surrounded by four Empire fighters, and just beyond her, Ezor being pursued by three more. He tore his eyes from them to look back at the cannons that had, against all odds, pivoted to face him once more. If he knew anything about Galra Empire weaponry (and he did), then the slowly increasing glow of the red light on top of the cannons told him they were getting ready to fire.

Keith gritted his teeth.

For someone who supposedly wanted “his” Lion back, Zarkon was doing a damn good job of trying to destroy her.

Once again the cannons fired, and once again Keith pushed the Black Lion forward. He pulled back on the controls to bring her into the air just before the blasts connected. The blasts shot beneath them, slamming into the shield on the other side. Like before, they ricocheted off, shooting like errant stars back toward the other side of the battle cruiser. When they connected with the shield this time, they fizzled out.

Keith considered his options.

They didn’t have a lot of room to work with. The shield wasn’t pinning them to the rooftop of the cruiser, but it also wasn’t allowing him nearly enough room to fly out of range of the cannons. Even if he tried to get the cannons to shoot each other, since they all fired at once, that would do nothing but cause their shots to collide in midair. Though maybe—

“All right,” Keith said under his breath. “Let’s see how you like  _this._ ”

As the cannons fired once again, Keith jumped to the side, then up. The rebounded cannon fire missed him, and once it had fizzled out against the shield, he took the Black Lion back down to the rooftop. Before the cannons had a chance to reorient themselves to try firing again, he pivoted on the Black Lion’s paws and loosed her own cannon fire, directing it through the entire line of cannons on the right side of the cruiser’s roof. By the time the Black Lion was done, all that remained were smoldering piles of molten lead.

Keith smirked. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

That was the first set of cannons. The second fired immediately after Keith quietly celebrated his victory, and it was only through the grace of good instinct that he managed to bound the Black Lion out of the way. He felt a quiet little growl in the back of his mind—a  _pay attention_ reminder if he had ever heard one—and he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ve got this under control.”

She snorted, and he could almost imagine her lashing her tail.  _You had better._

Keith resisted the urge to roll his eyes again.

Instead, he waited for the left row of cannons to fire on them once more. When they did, and he avoided their blasts just as he had previously, he unleashed the Black Lion’s cannon even before touching ground. Once more, her blast was more than enough to reduce the cannons to rubble. They all but melted against the rooftop of the battle cruiser, and Keith breathed a sigh of relief.

That was one problem down. Now he just had to solve the other.

He tried (though he knew it wouldn’t work) another blast against the shield above him. Nothing. It didn’t give a centimeter. Keith took to the air again, flying right alongside the shield. Acxa, Narti, Ezor, and Zethrid were all still engaged with Empire fighters; the number of reinforcements looked as though it had thinned some, but each of them was still outnumbered, and without him, they couldn’t form Voltron to easily wipe them out again.

Damn it. Damn it.  _Damn it!_

Keith spun in the air and flew down to touch base again. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He had to calm down. He had to focus. He wouldn’t solve the problem by getting worked up and frustrated. He opened his eyes, and looked back up at the shield.

The Black Lion’s weapons couldn’t penetrate it. But maybe . . .

“Hey,” he said, and when he knew he had the Black Lion’s attention, asked, “Exactly how tough do you think you are?”

The Black Lion didn’t answer him directly, but the attitude he sensed from her felt a little insulted that he would even ask. Well, good. That was the answer he wanted. Keith readjusted his grip on the controls. If he hit the shield at the right angle . . . if he took a running start—

He never got the chance.

Just before he was about to send the Black Lion careening up into the shield, the shield shattered. Explosions rippled alongside the outermost boundaries of the battle cruiser, shattering the turrets that had held the shield in place. And just when Keith was about to ask which one of his teammates had helped him out, he saw not a Lion, but the  _comet ship_ , arc away from Zarkon’s battle cruiser.

_Lotor._

“Doing all right, Keith?” Lotor called, and Keith grinned as he took to the air once more.

“I am now. Thanks for the backup,” he said.

“Any time,” Lotor said. “But as things are now I believe it’s time for us to return to the Castle. I can create a wormhole to get us out of here.”

Keith frowned. “What about the rift? And Zarkon?”

“There are other rifts. That isn’t the only one we can study,” Lotor said. “And considering he keeps bringing in more reinforcements, I believe prolonging this battle will only lead to negative consequences for us. We’d be much better advised fighting him when it is  _our_ ambush that begins the rout, not his.”

Keith closed his eyes for a tick, considering, and then nodded.

“You’re right,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

**\- - -**

Lotor, thanks to the comet ship’s speed, had managed to get back to the Castle before the rest of them. Keith and the others had taken out the remaining fighters around the Castle while Lotor prepared the wormhole, and the moment it was operational, they had each darted into their hangars while Lotor took the Castle through. Zarkon had tried to fire after them—apparently he had finally decided that being more aggressive, rather than hoping a Lion would come to him, was the only way he was going to win the fight—but he was ticks too late. The wormhole closed, and their team was transported halfway across the universe. They were far away from any rifts they could study, now, but they were also far from Zarkon. For the time being, that was enough. And since he didn’t find them again in the vargas that followed, they figured they were likely safe.

The ten members of Auxiliary Team One who had been on guard duty were found unconscious outside the detention cells, and when they woke, the most they could say for themselves was that the locks had disengaged without warning, and that they were jumped by the alternate reality Paladins before they had time to prepare for combat. A look through the Castle’s security logs found that the locks on the doors had been purposefully disengaged, and when Narti had investigated further, she found that they had been disabled not by any actual resident of the Castle, but by the other team’s Green Paladin, Pidge.

“But how’d she do it?” Ezor had asked. “We took her Bayard, and there isn’t any tech in the cells at all.”

“She must have had built a method of interfacing with the Castle’s technology into her Paladin armor, allowing her to hack the system remotely,” Lotor had said. He had smiled in a way that was nothing short of admiring. “That is quite clever of her. I’ll likely never see her again, but if I do, I’ll have to remember to give her the credit she’s due.”

But Pidge’s cleverness in disabling the detention cell locks didn’t excuse Auxiliary Team One’s inability to stop the alternate reality Paladins from escaping. Even if it did work out for the best in the end (they hadn’t been able to stay near the rift, and it wasn’t as if they could keep another set of Lions floating outside their Castle forever), the fact that they had been so easily jumped and taken out was inexcusable.

“No matter how confined or trapped the enemy may appear, you never let your guard down in their presence,” Lotor had said coldly, and each member of Auxiliary Team One had looked suitably chastised. “The fact that you would be so careless so as to not only not notice their Green Paladin hacking our Castle’s systems, but also to be caught by surprise when they escaped their cells and attacked you, is most disappointing. You’re all demoted to Auxiliary Team Three until you can prove yourselves worthy of promotion again. Dismissed.”

A few of them had looked as though they had wanted to argue, yet thought better of it at the last tick. One girl looked as though she was about to cry. All of them had shuffled off to their quarters, and not a single one was seen for the remainder of the night, even when it came time for dinner.

Figuring out their next course of action was paramount, but after everything that had happened that day, Keith quietly agreed with both Ezor and Zethrid when both complained of being exhausted. So after a brief, post-dinner meeting to not only conclude their earlier briefing (the details of which were still interesting even if they no longer had an alternate reality Voltron in their possession), but also outline at least the basics of what their next steps were going to be, each of them retired for the night. Keith made his way to his room in something of a trance, not really paying attention to where he was going, and by the time he stepped inside and the door slid shut behind him, he felt as though his head was spinning.

It felt, he thought, as he stripped off his Paladin armor, as though he had just lived through a phoeb rather than a quintant. It was hard to wrap his head around the fact that, less than twelve vargas ago, five Paladins from an alternate reality had breached through a rift in space-time to confront them and accuse him of being someone he wasn’t. Even as he thought on it now, a laugh borne from a mixture of exhaustion and disbelief escaped him. Had someone told him last movement that such a thing was going to happen, he wouldn’t have believed them. Yet now here he was, pulling a shirt and pants out of his closet to sleep in less than a half a quintant after five Paladins from another reality had done just that. Amazing.

But Lotor had been right when he had said that those accusations—that the other reality—carried no weight. Lotor’s reassurances aside . . . Keith’s room wasn’t anything special, really. It was no different from his teammates’ rooms in terms of size, furniture, or lighting. Yet although he kept it neat, his things packed away where he could easily find and retrieve them later, there was still one thing of note that was easily spotted the moment someone entered—one thing that Keith hadn’t even put there himself.

As he finished tugging his sleep clothes on, Keith made his way over to his bed. There, taped up along the wall, was a collage of photographs. Ezor had gotten her hands on a small tablet camera during one of their visits to the Space Mall, and had gone on a photo taking spree. She had not only snapped all manner of candid photographs of all of them, but had insisted on taking hundreds of selfies with them, too. And when she learned via a spontaneous visit that Keith hadn’t decorated his room with anything, she had disappeared only to return thirty dobashes later with a stack of printed out photographs and tape, which she had then attacked his wall with. At the time, Keith had been exasperated, but now he smiled as he examined them. There was one of him and Acxa simultaneously drinking pechaya juice while using their other hands to try and block Ezor’s camera; there was another of Zethrid lifting him off the ground in a massive, full-body hug as he gasped out that he had ribs she was breaking; there was one of him and Narti having fallen asleep on the sofa together, Kova curled up on his chest; one of Ezor herself pouncing on his back so she could take an impromptu selfie with him; one of him and Lotor playing a game of Crowns & Claws, Keith’s brow furrowed in concentration as he studied the board before him, and Lotor smiling at him from across the table; and other snapshots of the rest of his teammates, from one the many selfies Ezor took of herself dancing with Narti, to one of Acxa after she had fixed new barrettes in her hair to keep her bangs out of her eyes, to one of Zethrid arm-wrestling Lotor. The wall by his bed was covered in photographs, arranged in a messy collage by Ezor, which chronicled the time they had spent together. Whatever had happened in the other reality, he was staring at hard evidence of everything that had happened in this one. Lotor had been right with what he had said before: This was all that mattered.

A sudden knock at his door pulled his attention from the photo wall. He clambered off his bed (saying, “Come in,” as he did so), yet even though he knew that there was only a handful of people that it could be, he still felt a little thrill of surprise when he saw the person standing in his doorway.

“Lotor?”

“I hope I haven’t woken you,” Lotor said, yet though his words sounded apologetic, there was still a little smile on his lips. Keith couldn’t help but smile a little himself.

Typical Lotor.

“No, you didn’t,” Keith said. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to speak with you about what happened during the battle against Zarkon and his fleet,” Lotor said, as he stepped over the threshold and allowed Keith’s door to slide shut behind him.

Keith didn’t know what he had been expecting Lotor to say—he hadn’t had even a thought as to why Lotor might have come to talk to him. But he realized, as he found himself caught off-guard for the second time in less than three dobashes, that whatever he had been expecting, that wasn’t it.

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Are you talking about how the other Paladins escaped? I had to let them go through the rift, Lotor. We couldn’t let Zarkon get his hands on another Black Lion.”

“No, I’m fully aware that once Auxiliary Team One allowed the other Paladins to escape the Castle, we had no choice but to allow them to return to their own reality,” Lotor said. “You made the correct call. I would expect no less from you.”

It was a nice compliment, but it did nothing to alleviate Keith’s confusion. “Then what—”

“You distracted Zarkon long enough for the other reality’s Paladins to successfully escape, which I grant you was a necessary, albeit dangerous, course of action,” Lotor said, and it was in that tick that Keith realized where this conversation was heading, even before Lotor finished his thought with, “But you continued to engage him even after their Black Paladin had turned back toward the rift, despite the fact that Acxa and the others were unable to offer you support due to the Empire fighters that had engaged them.”

“I didn’t know that he had turned back to the rift. He was arguing with me until that point. He wanted to stay and fight Zarkon,” Keith said. “I was just trying to keep Zarkon occupied until their Black Paladin came to his senses and got out of there. That’s all.”

Lotor narrowed his eyes. “You do us both a disservice by lying to me, Keith.”

Keith glared back at him. “I’m not—”

“I tapped into your communication channels shortly after you flew closer to Zarkon’s battle cruiser in order to advise you to disengage,” Lotor said, cutting across him. His voice was hard. “I heard you begin to ask the Black Lion if she wished to take down her former Paladin just before you were shot down.”

Keith bit back a wince, but when Lotor continued to stare him down, waiting for a response, he sighed heavily.

“All right,” he said. “I was going to continue the fight against Zarkon. But originally, I really was just trying to keep him away from the other Black Lion. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“I’m aware,” Lotor said, “and I have no qualms with that. I do, however, take issue with you trying to challenge Zarkon on your own. You do realize that’s an incredibly reckless move that could easily get you killed, don’t you?”

Keith crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow. “So is flying a ship, even if it’s made from the same ore as Voltron, into a sun. That didn’t seem to stop you three phoebs ago.”

Lotor rolled his eyes. “I did not fly  _into_ a sun. I flew  _along the surface_ of a sun. There is a difference.”

“I’m not seeing it.”

“And what I did was, at that time, a necessary course of action taken to escape Empire hounds,” Lotor said, locking eyes with Keith again. “That is markedly different from choosing to fight Zarkon single-handedly in the middle of an ambush we could easily leave.”

“If I had taken Zarkon out there, you would be on the throne right now,” Keith said. “This entire war would be over. It was just as necessary, just in a different way.”

“No,” Lotor said, “it was not. I will have the throne, Keith. Whether in this decaphoeb or the next, my father’s time as Emperor is coming to an end, and I will be there when he breathes his last. It isn’t necessary to oust him today. It certainly isn’t necessary to do so at the cost of your life.”

Keith bit the inside of his cheek, trying to quell the pulse of annoyance rising within him. It didn’t work; exhaustion had a tendency to make him irritable as it was, and being called too reckless by the same guy who flew comet ships into suns did nothing to help that. He exhaled another sharp sigh before he turned back to his bed to yank the covers back.

“Whatever,” he said. “If you came here to lecture me, message received. I’ve got it, so you can go.”

“I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to lecture you,” Lotor said. Keith didn’t turn, but he could tell that Lotor had made no move to leave. “I only wished to say that . . . I meant what I said before.”

Keith frowned. “Before when?”

“Before Ezor interrupted us in the lounge.”

Keith froze in the act of dropping his comforter at the edge of his bed, his heart jumping—and then seizing—in his chest.

_You are invaluable to me._

His fingers constricted around the hem of his comforter. Lotor had been sincere when he had said that. Keith had been able to tell. Yet though he had meant what he said, that didn’t mean he was . . . Keith had been too swept up in the moment to think on it before, but now . . . he slowly released his grip, and let the blanket fall back on the mattress.

“That . . . isn’t exactly true, you know,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not invaluable,” Keith said. He turned back to Lotor at last, and was this time unsurprised to find himself on the receiving end of narrowed eyes and a sharp frown. “We’re equals in terms of swordsmanship. You could teach the auxiliary teams just as well as I can. You can also pilot the Black Lion just as well as I can. Even if something happened to me, the revolution would still have Voltron. And since Acxa—”

“I wasn’t referring to your contributions to the revolution, though until now I thought you recognized how fortunate it is that we are both able to pilot the Black Lion without complications,” Lotor said.

Keith furrowed his brow. “Then what—”

“When I said that you are invaluable to me, I was speaking only of my own . . . personal feelings,” Lotor said. “Prowess with a sword, mastery in the cockpit—these are skills that are impressive, yes, but they are also skills that are taught. They are skills that can be learned and mastered by others. These abilities alone do not make any of us special.”

“I know,” Keith said. “That’s why—”

“You are invaluable to me, Keith, not because of what you can do, but because of who you are,” Lotor went on, and though he had raised his voice a little to speak over Keith, Keith’s own voice died in his throat. “Your presence by my side has been instrumental in my—in  _our_ success. Yes, you have aided me in battle. Your piloting abilities have natural grace few could ever dream of achieving. But I’ve come to value your companionship more than any of your skillsets. I want you by my side not only for what we can accomplish in our revolution, but also for the time we spend together outside of it.” Lotor paused, and then added more quietly, “There may be others who are capable of training the auxiliary teams or piloting the Black Lion, Keith, but they could never mean to me what you do. For that, above all else, I do not wish to lose you.”

Every nerve in Keith’s body felt electrified. His heart was bashing itself so forcefully against his ribcage that he was not only acutely aware of every rapid beat, but it was actually a little painful. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard, but—Lotor had said it. He said it. Keith  _did_ hear every word. And there were no traces of humor in his tone, there was no light of laughter in his eyes. The stare that bore into Keith’s own eyes was not only serious, but sincere. Lotor meant every word. And Keith, his hands shaking—Keith, his out of control heartrate making it a little harder to breathe—Keith—

Keith cupped Lotor’s face between his hands and pulled him down into a fervent kiss.

Despite how suddenly he had acted, it only took a tick for Keith to feel Lotor smile against his lips. Lotor looped an arm around Keith’s waist to tug him closer, and Keith combed his fingers up and down through Lotor’s hair, so that he could wrap his arms around Lotor’s neck instead. As their mouths moved in tandem, Lotor raked his fingers through Keith’s hair, and Keith pulled Lotor more tightly against him. Their embrace was so close, he could feel both their hearts beating.

When the kiss ended and they drew apart, they did so only by a fraction. Keith kept his arms around Lotor’s neck, and likewise, Lotor only released the grip he had on Keith’s hair to loop both his arms around Keith’s waist instead. Their eyes met, and in that moment, with his smile reflected in Lotor’s own, Keith blurted the only thing that came to mind.

“I’m so glad I met you.”

Lotor’s smile widened, causing Keith’s to do the same, and as the two beamed at each other and Lotor huffed a little laugh, he allowed his forehead to bump against Keith’s.

“As am I,” he said.


End file.
